


Harry Potter and the Rise of the Elements

by orphan_account



Series: Harry Potter: Power of the Elementals [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Harry Potter, Black Hermione Granger, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Gen, Harry dishes out a lot of roasts, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Hermione is still a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff Ron Weasley, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Sassy Harry Potter, So sorry for constantly changing the tags, Subtle Dumbledore Bashing, harry and hermione are practically siblings, my ideas keep changing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-11 22:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15325674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After his only blood relatives are killed in a fire, Harry is adopted by Hermione Granger's family. At age six, the siblings-not-related-by-blood are introduced to the wizarding world by Hagrid. They begin their first year at Hogwarts, where they go through shenanigans one can expect at Hogwarts - friends, enemies, witty roasts, plots, bad-ass action, and Dark Lords taped to the back of stuttering DADA teachers.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my first-ever Harry Potter fan fiction. I was inspired by Des98 and alwayslily22's series, "The much better, Dursley's can fuck off, Slytherins are people too AU" and "Through the Quiet Emerald". Both are extremely well-written, engaging, and I highly recommend everyone to check them out.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated, though no flaming will be tolerated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. They all belong to J. K. Rowling.
> 
> Update: I decided to remove the KnB part from this series. Now it will be a purely Harry Potter fanfic, since it seems that no one really cares for a Harry Potter x KnB crossover.

* * *

 

Fire.

 

Fire, everywhere.

 

No matter where he looked, fire burned and flickered in a magnificent glow of red, orange and yellow. The heat from the roaring flames was intense, but he didn’t feel it, for some reason. But he didn’t feel safe here. The fires, the smoke, and the screams, it was like a vision into a hellish underworld where sinners were damned for their crimes. Although, to be frank, he never did feel safe here.

 

Harry James Potter, left on the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive as a baby, never had a day where he felt safe. Even at the tender age of five, little Harry knew that he wasn’t in a safe, loving environment where a young child like him ought to have.

 

He knew his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley didn’t love him. They never did. In their eyes, he was a freak, an abomination, a monster that they had correct out of him. Ever since he could walk, Harry had been forced into what essentially was slavery. Cooking, cleaning, and getting whatever the Dursleys wanted. Any mistake, slip-up, or questions were harshly dealt with. Harry had gone through countless beatings, hits, and long periods thrown into the cupboard under the stairs with just bread and water to survive.

 

Harry, although understanding this wasn’t how family treated their own (from Dudley’s old children’s books he sneaked from the attic), never once spoke out, for speaking out only resulted in more lashes with a belt and a week in the cupboard. But this time, something happened that put an end to Harry’s suffering.

 

Harry had spoiled dinner that evening, after Dudley had spooked him, causing him to drop the frying pan and the three steaks that he was cooking for the Dursleys went flying out and landing on the floor, except for one of the steaks, which landed on Dudley’s fat, pudgy arm, the still-sizzling fat burning into his pasty skin.

 

The obese little monster screamed in pain, rolling to the floor and clutching his arm in pain. A rush of footsteps, Petunia and Vernon bursting into the kitchen in a flurry. Petunia’s eyes widened, seeing her “handsome Dudders” injured and howling in pain, and rushed for him, mothering him with questions and reassurances.

 

Vernon on the other hand, rounded on Harry, his fat, round face turning purple with rage. Harry knew he was in trouble again, but this time, a surge of energy flashed through his nerves. For the first time, he didn’t feel scared. Heck, he wasn’t even afraid of the pain and the punishment that was coming. Harry knew he wasn’t at fault. It had just been an accident. Dudley got what he deserved, for scaring Harry when he was handling dangerous cooking equipment. Dudley should be blamed, not him.

 

And he was going to make it clear to Vernon.

 

“What did you do, boy?!”

 

“It was Dudley.” Harry began unwaveringly. Normally, he replied in meek tones whenever Vernon or Petunia spoke to him, but not this time. “He scared me, and I jumped. The meat flew out and one of the pieces landed on him.”

 

“You! You think it’s funny to blame our little tyke for your actions!” Vernon shouted, bringing a large hand down to hit Harry. But the boy dodged.

 

“I don’t think it’s funny, because it wasn’t my fault!” Harry shouted back, “It was Dudley who did it!”

 

“Why you insolent little freak!”

 

Vernon grabbed Harry’s thin arm harshly. Harry knew his “uncle” was going to throw him into the cupboard again. But not this time.

 

“IT IS NOT. MY. FAULT!!!” Harry screamed.

 

Then, things spiralled out of control. There was a loud bang, and a whooshing sound. Vernon pulled away as, to Harry’s astonishment, a large column of fire seemed to burst from the stove and engulfed him with a roar.

 

Vernon screamed, falling to the floor, flailing and rolling to extinguish the flames dancing across his body. Petunia screeched, grabbed a wet towel from the sink and whacking at the flames that inundated her husband. No matter what she did though, the flames did not go out. Instead, they seem to only get bigger, increasing with Vernon’s screams of agony as his moustache and clothes were burnt away.

 

Harry watched the scene with astonishment. He was confused. What happened? Did the stove explode? The stove was on fire, Harry noticed, but how did Vernon, who was not even near the stove, catch fire too?

 

His attention turned to Petunia, who was still trying to save her burning husband. His gaze locked onto her, the skinny, long-necked whore who also abused him alongside her husband. Another bang, another whooshing sound, and another scream, this time more high-pitched, but equally wretched. Harry watched, eyes wide, as Petunia was hit by another column of fire, her hideous flower-print dress and blonde hair igniting amidst her wailing.

 

She collapsed to the floor, just like her husband, flailing about in a doomed attempt to extinguish the flames eating away at her. Harry turned to Dudley, who was cowering in the corner where he had scuttled back against. He watched his cousin stare at his burning parents, frozen with fear and horror.

 

Dudley’s fear and horror became just fear, when the flaming stove exploded for real this time, the resulting fireball destroying the fixtures, windows, the dining set, the kitchen electronics, and Dudley himself.

 

The force of the explosion threw him sideways. His head hit against a drawer handle, leaving him disoriented. The fireball came less than a second later, and he was thrown into the same fate as his parents, his hair and clothes igniting first. Even dazed, his pained screams joined the chaos of noise that the kitchen became.

 

With everything seemingly ablaze, including his blood relatives, Harry snapped out of his stupor. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to get away, to escape, lest he suffered the same fate as the three burning monsters.

 

Scrambling to his feet, Harry dashed from the flaming kitchen. His uncle, aunt and cousin stayed on the floor, burning and screaming. Harry reached the doorway, and looked back. He could only see Vernon amidst the flames, Petunia and Dudley blocked from view by the rising smoke that filled the kitchen. Their eyes met, blank emerald-green ones connecting with flaming, blue ones. Harry could see the sheer anger and hatred in those blue eyes, like from the past three years, even as their owner thrashed in pain and panic from being on fire.

 

But even Vernon was eventually blocked from Harry’s sight, when the ceiling, weakened by the flames, came crashing in. Debris rained down, a large piece of flaming wood landing in front of Vernon’s face, his screams reaching a higher crescendo.

 

Harry tore away from the door frame as it began to burn. Smoke billowed out from the kitchen and into the hallway. Harry dropped to the floor, coughing and spluttering. Breathing was becoming difficult, as Harry stayed low as possible from the smoke.

 

With the flames now encroaching into the hallway, Harry crawled with what little strength he had from the meagre piece of toast he managed to secretly eat at breakfast that morning. It seemed like an impossible task, with the smoke and fire cutting off most of the oxygen and weak physical state. Harry could feel the heat of the fire around him, and he pushed himself harder. He didn’t want to die here.

 

Amidst the thick smoke, Harry finally reached the door after what must seemed like hours of crawling. He could no longer hear the screams from his blood relatives, but he could sounds coming from outside beyond the door. Loud wailing sounds like the sirens of a fire truck, and loud voices muffled by the door.

 

Hope rose in Harry’s heart. With the flames and smoke getting stronger, he willed up whatever strength he had left, and started slamming his small fist against the door.

 

“Help! Help me! Get me out!” Harry screamed as loud as he could.

 

The voices outside reacted in a flurry of incoherent babble. Not long after, Harry heard a woman’s voice come through the door.

 

“Hang on kiddo! We’re coming! We’re going to bust the door in!”

 

Harry realized what she said, and scurried back a few paces. Barely a second later, the door came crashing through in a cloud of wood and splinters. Harry shut his eyes and curled inwards to avoid the wooden projectiles, as the voices reached his ears, much clearer. He didn’t register what the voices said, but he heard heavy footsteps rush in.

 

Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands grab him, and hoist him off the floor. Harry barely registered being pulled close to a chest, before his rescuer rushed through the remains of the front door.

 

Immediately, the blazing heat of the fires was replaced by the coolness of the spring night. Harry let out a shaky breath. At last, he could breathe.

 

He barely registered his surroundings. Everything was out of focus from the tears in his eyes. He saw the colored flashes of the sirens, the blurry forms of neighbors milling outside the garden walls, arms raised, pointing.

 

Harry shuddered, the adrenaline seeping out of his nerves. He felt heavy, exhausted. He just wanted to close his eyes…

 

“Don’t worry, kiddo. You’re safe now. You’re going to be alright…”

 

That was the last thing Harry heard as he slipped into unconsciousness in the fire-fighter’s arms.

* * *

 


	2. Recuperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up in a hospital where he recuperates, before being taken to Wool's Orphanage.

_“…terrible really, what happened.”_

_“Tell me about it. They say the entire house burnt to the ground. Nothing left was remotely recognizable.”_

_“They couldn’t have survived that.”_

_“No, they didn’t. I heard they only found charred skeletons.”_

_“But the boy though, he is really lucky.”_

_“Absolutely, thank heavens he was rescued right before the house caved in.”_

Harry stirred. There were voices he didn’t recognize. It was also dark. He couldn’t see anything. Were his eyes closed? Was he unconscious? He…couldn’t be dead right?

 

No, no. He could feel his body lying on a…bed? There was something attached to his right hand and something clipped onto his left middle finger. Steady, monotonic beeping sounds echoed on his left. Wherever he was, it smelled sterile, disinfectant potent in the air around him.

 

Perhaps that was what got his systems working again. Harry opened his heavy eyelids, the world flashing into view instantly. Harry was really tempted to shut his eyes again; wherever he was, it was far too bright. His vision was blurry, everything just a canvas of out-of-focused shapes and colors.

 

Harry shifted again, and two of the blurry shapes seemed to turn towards him. One of them moved closer towards him, and his first instinct was to cower away in fear.

 

“P-Please…don’t…”

 

“Shh, it’s okay. Calm down. There’s nothing to worry about, kiddo. You’re going to be fine.”

 

With his blood pumping from the shot of panic, Harry’s vision cleared. Fear turned to wary confusion, as the form of a young man in nurse’s uniform came into view.

 

“W-Who…are…you?”

 

“My name’s Timothy. I’m your nurse tasked with checking up on you. That lady over there is a doctor, she’s Dr. Kathy.”

 

“Doctor?” Harry asked, “You mean someone who makes people become better?”

 

“Indeed Harry,” Dr. Kathy, a woman in her mid-forties, approached Timothy’s side with a gentle smile, “I’ve been tasked over ensuring your quickest recovery.”

 

Harry watched these two strangers closely. He was suspicious of them. How did they know him? Were they going to beat him like Vernon and Petunia had done to him before? And…where was he?

 

Harry slowly glanced about. There were several beds lined in a row in front of him, and more by his right and left. Some had occupants, others were empty. Harry looked down, he too was reclining on a bed. His right arm was attached to a long, thin tube connected to a plastic bag containing a clear liquid. His left middle finger was inserted to a strange contraption hooked up to a machine, apparently the source of the beeping noise, with a screen with squiggly lines running with numbers beside it.

 

“W-Where am I?”

 

“You’re in the hospital, kiddo.” Timothy answered.

 

“Hospital?”

 

Dr. Kathy nodded, “Yes, Harry. You were brought here last night after you were pulled from your burning home.”

 

Burning home? What did she-

 

_Fire._

_Fire everywhere._

Harry’s eyes glassed over and he became stock-still like a statue. The memories from the night before came roaring back like the flames that took the lives of his relatives. The exploding stove, the smoke, the heat, the waves of orange, yellow and red…the screams of agony and pain.

 

_“Kiddo? Kiddo, what’s the matter? Is everything alright?”_

Harry snapped back into reality. The fires and screams were gone. Normal hospital sounds filled his ears, as well as Timothy shaking him.

 

“Are you okay? You blanked out for a moment there!”

 

Harry blinked once. He glanced at Timothy, a worried expression marring his boyish face. Harry then shifted his gaze to Dr. Kathy, who had a matching look on concern. Harry turned back to Timothy.

 

“F-Fire…”

 

Beads of sweat raced down Harry’s forehead, quivering in their tracks as the young boy trembled, “Smoke…loud…hot…”

 

Timothy immediately got Harry to lie back down, whispering comforting and reassuring words while stroking the child’s hair. The trembling slowly ceased, the far-away look in Harry’s eyes faded, but the sweat continued to trickle down.

 

“That’s it Harry, calm down. It’s okay, it’s nothing, nothing is going to hurt you.”

 

Timothy wiped away the sweat with a clean towel as Harry finally calmed down. The nurse replaced the towel with another, drenched in cool water, wrung out, and folded neatly over the child’s forehead to curb the possibility of a fever.

 

“I’m going to bring Officer Jenkins in.” Dr. Kathy muttered to Timothy.

 

The nurse nodded, and the doctor walked away from Harry’s side and out of sight.

 

“Nurse Timothy?”

 

Timothy turned towards Harry. The young boy had stopped panicking, but a new layer of uncertainty had reached his emerald-green eyes.

 

“W-Who is Officer Jenkins?

 

“Officer Jenkins is from the local police, Harry. You know, the people who capture bad guys and lock them away from good people like you. They want to ask you a few questions about the fire at your house.”

 

Before Harry could ask anymore, Dr. Kathy returned with a female police officer who looked to be in the mid-thirties.

 

“Good morning, Harry. I’m Officer Belinda Jenkins.”

 

“G-Good morning…” the boy replied, shrinking back a little.

 

“You don’t need to be scared okay?” Belinda reassured, “I just want to ask you a few questions.”

 

“O-Okay…”

 

“Wonderful. Firstly, where were you in the house before it caught fire?”

 

“In the kitchen. I was cooking dinner.”

 

“Pretend cooking?”

 

“N-No…cooking. Like c-cooking for my relatives.”

 

The three adults raised an eyebrow each. Harry flinched and shrank back, thinking their reactions were the pre-cursor to the incoming pain that was usually inflicted on him.

 

“Why were you cooking for your relatives? Were you helping out?”

 

“No officer…I was alone, cooking my relatives’ food. They…they’ve made me cook for them every day…”

 

Harry shuddered, his eyes shutting tightly as horrible memories of beatings, lashes and weeks spent in the cupboard for any slip-ups or mess. Officer Belinda’s lips curled tightly, she didn’t like where this was going. From Harry’s body language and testimony so far, a case of serious child abuse was becoming clearer by the second.

 

“Do you remember what happened last night?”

 

“My cousin…Dudley…he spooked me. The food I was cooking fell out and hurt him.” Harry replied, before continuing frantically, “I didn’t do it on purpose! Really! I didn’t mean to hurt him!”

 

“It’s okay, Harry.” Timothy soothed, brushing Harry’s raven locks, “We believe you. It’s not your fault.”

 

“What happened after that?” Belinda continued.

 

“Dudley was crying. Then Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia rushed in. They…they kept saying I hurt Dudley on purpose, like they always had…”

 

“Have you deliberately hurt your cousin before?”

 

“No officer! Dudley is way bigger than me! He always hurts me, calls me nasty things, and when I try to complain, he says I hurt him instead. Uncle Vernon would then…h…hi…hit…”

 

Harry’s voice choked as tears began to pool and slip from his eyes. The adults at his bedside turned to one another. There was no doubt about it. This was indeed a case of child abuse.

 

“…hit…me…and then t-throw me into the c-cupboard for a long time…”

 

“Shh, don’t cry, Harry.” Timothy squeezed the boy’s trembling hand, “None of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

 

“But Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always said I can never do anything right.” Harry continued weeping, “They said I was a “freak” and a monster…”

 

The nurse continued comforting the distraught child. Dr. Kathy turned to Officer Jenkins, “Officer? What are you planning to do?”

 

“This is a classic case of child abuse,” the policewoman replied, getting up, “Of course, since my likely guess is that this Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were the three skeletons found at the scene, there’s no point in filing charges. The issue now is helping Harry recover from this tragedy.”

 

“Of course officer.”

 

“Also, I’ll have a look into the records to determine if Harry has any other relatives that can take custody of him. If not, he will have to go to an orphanage.”

 

“I understand, officer. So are you…?”

 

“I’m going back to the station first. I’ll drop by either later today or tomorrow when I’ve conducted a next-of-kin search.”

 

“Right.”

* * *

Harry grew exhausted after the interview with Officer Jenkins and a hearty breakfast that he was initially reluctant to touch but eventually tucked into at Timothy’s reassurances, a result of having to steal food to survive and getting punished severely if caught. Dr. Kathy gave Harry a check-over once he was done, frowning inwardly when she noticed the scars from the abuse by the Dursleys. Harry fell asleep soon after, and didn’t wake for several hours, punctuated by Timothy bringing in his lunch and dinner trays and another check-over.

 

But Harry’s slumber was far from restful. The hours between being awoken were filled with vivid images of fire, screams of his relatives, a woman’s strange begging, and a flash of green light. The times he was awakened came with a headache that refused to go away.

 

The latest time was no exception. When Timothy came to wake Harry up, the nurse was met with a grumpy child rubbing his temple (for the third time).

 

“Does your head hurt whenever you wake up?”

 

“Not always…” Harry mumbled, still rubbing his temple.

 

Timothy handed Harry a couple of headache pills, which the child swallowed without complaint. Almost immediately, the throbbing vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place.

 

“The pain should be gone in a short while-.”

 

“It’s already gone, Nurse Timothy.”

 

The nurse raised an eyebrow. Normally, the medication would take an hour or so to settle the headache, but to hear it working so fast…

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s…it’s nothing Harry.” Timothy quickly reassured, trying to shake the disbelief from expression.

 

“So what is it? Do you need to tell me something?”

 

“Yes,” Timothy affirmed, “Officer Jenkins, remember her?” Harry nodded, “She came back earlier. She told Dr. Kathy and I that she was unable to locate any living relatives to take you home.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Once you’ve been discharged, you will be placed in the local orphanage, Harry.”

 

“O…Orphanage?” Harry let the unfamiliar word roll out of his tongue. He had heard his late Aunt Petunia ranting to his late Uncle Vernon and that same word had spouted from her thin lips multiple times as far as he could remember.

 

“It’s a home for children without parents or other relatives to take care of them, Harry.” Timothy explained, “Because we weren’t able to locate anyone to take care of you, we will have to place you into one after you leave.”

 

Apprehension sank into the depths of Harry’s bowels, “Are…are there nice…people there?”

 

“Yes, Harry, we will ensure that nice people will take you in.” Timothy reassured, “We will make sure that you will be safe.”

 

To be frank, Harry still regarded Timothy’s words with some wariness. From the age that he first could understand human emotions and words, he had been subjected to nothing but contempt, hatred, and disdain by adults and children alike. All of that had been Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia’s doing, instilling their spoiled whale of a son their own vileness and spreading it to all adults and, in turn, their children. They were so driven to paint the innocent boy left at their doorstep as a freakish monster that they were completely blind to the fact they were no less monsters themselves.

 

But here, for the first time, Harry was experiencing the care and affection that had been wrongfully denied to him in his short life. Nurse Timothy and Dr. Kathy treated him with kindness and understanding. They always answered his questions with a smile, and not once was he hit with a belt, hand or frying pan, even if reluctance to ask had brewed in his stomach initially.

 

His journey was far from over, even if the thought never crossed Harry’s mind. But the hell of living with the Dursleys was over. As Harry continued to chat with Timothy, a shooting of hope that had always held out like a warrior against the abuse of his early childhood began to sprout and grow.

* * *

Two days later, Dr. Kathy gave him a final check-over and declared him well enough to be discharged from the hospital. Now, Harry and Nurse Timothy were seated in the hospital’s outpatient waiting area. They were expecting a visit from the director of Wool’s Orphanage in London. How they came to the decision to send him away from Surrey, Harry had no idea. He just sat on the waiting area seat, legs swinging idly as they patiently waited for the director to arrive.

 

As the clock struck 10 in the morning, a middle-aged woman in a white blouse and brown work-skirt entered through the automatic doors. Timothy noticed her, got up from his seat and called her over. Harry stood up too, perceptively believing this woman was the orphanage director.

 

The woman had a firm, but warm air around her. Nonetheless, Harry kept his defenses up, just in case.

 

“Good morning, you must be Ms. Benson?”

 

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Nurse Smith.” Ms. Benson shook the nurse’s hand, before turning her attention to Harry, “And you must be Harry Potter, I presume?”

 

“Y-Yes, ma’am.” Harry nodded slowly.

 

“I’m sure Nurse Smith already informed you, but I am the director of Wool’s Orphanage.” Ms. Benson explained, crouching down to Harry’s height to not scare him, “It will be your new home.”

 

“Yes. T-Thank you.”

 

The director smiled, and gently patted Harry’s hair as she got back up to full height. A little bit of the anxiety churning in Harry’s stomach eased. Ms. Benson seemed like a nice lady, Harry mused to himself. He just hoped that it would last.

 

“…so you have all of Harry’s documents, right?”

 

“Right here, Ms. Benson.” Timothy nodded, handing the woman a large brown envelope.

 

“Excellent, everything’s in order.” Ms. Benson confirmed after ruffling through the papers in the envelope, “Thank you, Nurse Smith, for your work in taking care of Harry.”

 

“It’s my job, Ms. Benson, it’s what I’m supposed to do.” Timothy grinned, before turning to Harry, “It’s time to go now, Harry. Ms. Benson will look after you.”

 

“O-Okay…” Harry nodded, “T-Thank you for b-being nice to me, Nurse Timothy.”

 

“You’re most welcome, take care now.”

 

Harry took Ms. Benson’s outstretched hand with his smaller one, his free one waving to Timothy, “Bye bye.”

 

“Bye Harry.”

 

With one last glance at the first person ever to give him care and affection, Harry joined Ms. Benson in walking out of the hospital, hand-in-hand, the automatic doors opening and closing behind them as they disappeared into the outside world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, it's been a while. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Please leave a kudos and a comment, feedback is greatly appreciated to know how you guys like the story so far and what suggestions you have for me.
> 
> \- SilentGhostWriter2017


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